


Halves of a Whole

by Darthkvzn



Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Character Study, F/F, Feelings Realization, One Shot, Post-Episode: s01e16 Enchanting Grom Fright, Spoilers for Episode: s01e16 Enchanting Grom Fright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25905679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darthkvzn/pseuds/Darthkvzn
Summary: Luz revisits the site of her and Amity's triumph over Grom the Fear Demon, and reconsiders a few things...
Relationships: Amity Blight/Luz Noceda
Comments: 10
Kudos: 242





	Halves of a Whole

**Author's Note:**

> I binged the entirety of the Owl House in a day and I'm obsessed with it, so here you go!

She can’t help herself, going back the morning after.

Luz stares up in awe at the massive cherry tree standing proud near the cliff’s edge Grometheus the Fear Demon trapped her against, a lingering testament to the _extraordinary_ events of yesterday’s Grom night. She’s never seen anything quite like it in her time here – fitting, she supposes, as there’s no one quite like her here, either. The Boiling Isles are filled to the _brim_ with outstanding feats of witchcraft, to be sure, but...well, Luz never thought she’d actually manage to _contribute_ to them – at least, not so soon into her magical education.

Of course, she didn’t do it alone.

Luz may not have a Witch’s ability to cast spells in the _usual_ ways, but the Isles are so rich with magic that, _magic_ _bile organ_ or not, she’s become somewhat attuned to the natural ebb and flow of the energies of this place. Everyone’s magic has a distinct _taste,_ of sorts – Eda’s for example, is dry leaves, ozone, and charcoals, a simmering fire just about ready to roar into an inferno, while Willow’s is more freshly-mown grass and petrichor, a pleasant afternoon spent lounging in a backyard, storm clouds rolling in above. It’s _intoxicating_ at times, especially in magically significant places like The Knee, Hexside, or the Owl House itself, and this place seems to have joined the ranks of those select few. She can’t, of course, not without her precious glyphs, but she feels like she could extend her hand and pluck _power_ out of the air.

Even more troubling – or _thrilling,_ if she’s honest with herself – is the fact that she can’t quite tell where her own magic ends and Amity’s begins.

Again, it’s fitting; when they danced, they were so flawlessly in sync that, for a few precious moments, it was less like two good friends fighting a fear demon – as you do, in the Boiling Isles – and more like a single entity unleashing their arcane fury on a helpless blob. Aside from that first light spell, it’s the closest she’s ever felt to being a true Witch – the closest she’s ever felt to becoming like Azura, in all honesty, and she couldn’t have done it without the only other member of her fan club.

_That’s_ intoxicating, too. She wonders if she could’ve managed to do anything like this with Willow, Gus...even Eda. Somehow, she doesn’t think so.

Luz walks a bit closer, marveling still at the way the tree looms above her. She’s not exactly knowledgeable about plants, but it looks perfectly healthy, in spite of how hostile the Isles can be – as she learned the hard way, when she asked Eda to bring her a sunflower on one of her trash raids, only for it to crumple into a gray, dried-up mess within minutes. She idly wonders if it’ll sprout cherries some day – if she’ll even be here, still, when they do.

She tries not to think too hard about the limited nature of her stay in this magical realm. She knows it can’t last – and Grom knew it, _weaponized it_ against her – not when she’s too afraid to tell her _mami_ anything about this place that feels more like home than Earth ever did. She’s shocked, really, that it’s lasted this long in the first place – that her mother has shown such _remarkable_ restraint and not even _once_ attempted to call or visit. The weight of her guilt – of all the lying, all the things she’s learning that her mother would _never_ approve of, and worst of all, of all the bonding she’s done with Eda, when she’s had such a hard time connecting with her _actual_ mother – is starting to crush her, settling heavy on her chest.

And yet...that’s not all, is it? This _thing_ going up and down her throat, chest, and stomach since last night – like a particularly _pleasant_ brand of acid reflux? – this strange, unknown magic that simultaneously gives her confidence she doesn’t have, and plagues her with doubts she _shouldn’t_ have. Doubts she’s never had with Willow or Gus, but are starting to cloud her thoughts of Amity.

It’s almost like _magic,_ that her foot nudges two crumpled up pieces of pink paper as she thinks of the green-haired Witch. She bends down with a fond smile and picks one up – maybe it could serve as a more... _portable_ reminder of Grom night than the tree, now that King’s appropriated her tiara – when the paper unfurls, and her eyes widen in absolute shock.

She picked up the wrong one.

Luz didn’t actually _want_ to know who Amity wanted to go to Grom with. Part of her, in fact, was quite relieved when she wouldn’t reveal it – a part of her that she was a _bit_ confused by, at least until this moment, her name staring back at her in Amity’s impeccable penmanship, a small but growing warmth flooding her cheeks.

A part of her that _maybe_ didn’t want to hear Amity say a name that wasn’t _hers._

And yeah, it makes _sense,_ doesn’t it? The fear in Amity’s eyes when she picked up the invitation, the furious little blush as she snatched it out of her hands, the wide-eyed, breathless stare at her _Witchin’_ outfit, the soft wish for luck as she headed into the arena...and then, here on the cliff, the outrage as she came to her defense, and the sheer, unadulterated _joy_ in Amity’s expression as they danced Grometheus into _oblivion._

Amity has a crush on her.

“ _Oh._ ” –she whispers, like she’s made Azura say in half of her fics, upon realizing the extent of her rival’s feelings for her.

And isn’t it so _fitting,_ then, that she’d imitate Azura in this way, too?

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you for your attention! Make sure to comment or message me if you have any questions about this story. Look me up on Twitter as Darthkvzn or Tumblr as darthkvznblogs if you'd like - and on Ko-fi, as Darthkvzn, if you like what I do and have a coffee's worth of money to spare.
> 
> Until next time!


End file.
